


Blood of the Godfather

by Talesofwovensilver



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Black Family (Harry Potter) - Freeform, Black family Centric, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Kind of OOC Potters, Original Character-centric, Reference to Torture (canon level), There will be hopes for reconcilation though its still on the ropes, Though I tried to make their reasoning logical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2019-09-27 10:10:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17160074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talesofwovensilver/pseuds/Talesofwovensilver
Summary: Aurora Black. Daughter of Sirius Black. Only it's slightly more complicated than that.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Rewrite of ff.net fic under the same title.
> 
> NOTE FOR ANYONE COMING FROM THE ORIGINAL: There are some major changes I made from the original. It will be very different. The parings will be Wolfstar and the original pairings for Sirius and Remus will be discarded. Although they will still be part of the family.  
> Bellatrix will be featuring in this earlier, and that will change the plot a lot.  
> I've also decided to postpone the Bill and Aurora angst until later, cus I rushed things quite a lot with the original, so there will be major changes with their storyline too.

_Prologue, January 1957_

Muriel stood stiffly, if it where anyone else, she wouldn’t have kept her mouth shut, would have spoken her mind for everyone to hear. She was sixty-seven and had built up quite a reputation for doing so her whole life.

But she didn’t, because as much as she loathed those stood adjacent from her, she had already told everyone of her suspicions and not one of them believed her. So she would ignore them all. They wept, but none of them cared enough to listen to her. She knew there had been foul play involved. Ignatius had been a grounded, intelligent boy. Under no circumstances should he have met his end in a carriage incident. He had a wand. He should have been able to use it. That Lucretia Black was responsible to this. Muriel knew it. You didn’t get to her age without being able to tell with things like this.

And those infernal Blacks were here. The lot of them. They’d had the audacity to bury her Ignatius alongside that blasted woman. Muriel had been outraged, but yet again her protests had been ignored and rebuffed. They’d told her to stop it, because she was making things up and didn’t understand.

She was sixty-seven, not senile.

She had barely managed to keep her wand at bay the whole day.

They service finished and everybody filed out. None of them stepped forward to console her or leave with her. She was the mad woman to be left alone. Well damn them all to hell.

She had raised him. Ignatius had been her son far more than he was her brother’s. He and his young wife hadn’t had the first clue what to do with a baby. They were both only eighteen years old when Ignatius had been born. Muriel had been thirty-five, had helped her own mother raise her brother and knew far better than those two how to take care of a child. They had had more children, two in fact. Though one hadn’t made it past the age of eight. That had been a tragedy and Muriel could almost forgive her brother and his wife for not wanting to hear her. They had lost two children and didn’t even want to consider that the second may have been due to anything but a tragic accident.

But Muriel knew it was true. Ignatius should have been able to apparate out. He had to have been stopped, and the only one there to do so had been that Lucretia Black.

Those Blacks were a nasty lot. Muriel had always known that. Cold and self-serving. Lucretia had drawn Ignatius to her like a fly to her web, seduced him into losing his senses so he refused to listen to reason. Cut him off from his family so he could hardly even see Muriel. She had changed him from as good as Muriel’s son, to a man who didn’t even write to her.

Muriel wouldn’t let it stand. She was still alive. Even if everyone thought she was senile, she would get her penance. Until then, the Prewetts would have nothing to do with the Blacks.

She would make sure of that. She would keep the Prewett line clean from that line of murderers.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE FOR ANYONE COMING FROM THE ORIGINAL: I was going to make Aurora's twin an OC too like in the original because she was originally supposed to be a femHarry but since I changed that I've decided to make her Harry's twin.

_31 st July 1980_

Lily had been in labour for hours and James, Sirius and Remus had been sitting in the waiting room the whole time.

James wand was bouncing on his knee as he tapped it anxiously in some obscure beat.

Sirius was playing with a rubber band and Remus was sitting, shifting in his seat every 15 minutes.

When the midwife finally called James into the room, the remaining two marauders were left waiting anxiously for the new little additions to their makeshift family.

Finally, James came bouncing through the doorway, a radiant smile stretching his face. The answering grins he received were equally as wide.

“A boy and a girl! Come in. We’ll introduce you.”

James bounded back to Lily’s room and after sharing an amused smirk the other two followed his path through the maternity ward.

Entering the room saw an exhausted but smiling Lily cradling a small bundle wrapped in blue. James held an equally small bundle wrapped in green.

Approaching the couple, they stood by the bed as Lily tilted her arms slightly to show a small pink baby wearing a knitted cap. Its eyes were closed and the infant had a small downy tuft of dark hair just showing.

“Harry Potter. Remus, we were wondering if you’d like to be his godfather?”

Remus was gapping as his head swivelled between Lily and James, before breaking into a delighted grin. Which made everyone around him smile brighter.

“I’d love to. Thank you both.” Remus shuffled a bit closer as Lily careful extended her arms and allowed Remus to take Harry into his.

“Thank _you_ Moony.” James corrected. He then turned to Sirius with the other child – the girl – still in his arms. “Padfoot. We were wondering if you’d be the godfather to our daughter. We haven’t picked out a name yet.”

Sirius smiled. Even though he knew that he’d be a godfather by the end of the day Sirius was still honoured by the fact Lily and James trusted him with something so important.

“It would be my greatest honour Prongs.”

James grinned along with him and – as Lily had done with Remus – gently handed his daughter over to Sirius. The sensation was new. Sirius had never had much experience with babies, and whilst he wasn’t surprised by the warm weight of the infant, it was extremely terrifying to be holding such a fragile creature.

Carefully cradling the child in his arms Sirius looked down at her and he could swear his heart skipped a beat. He thanked anything he could think of that his grip didn’t falter. Staring back up at him were bright green eyes. They were completely focused on him and he hadn’t quite been ready for this. He’d thought she was sleeping from how quiet she was.

Not being able to tear his eyes away from the child staring up at him Sirius whispered. “I thought all babies had blue eyes at birth? And that they can’t focus on their surroundings at first?”

James nodded his head. “The midwife told us it’s rare, but in some magical babies their development is more rapid. She’s never seen a child so advanced as this one here.” He smiled lovingly at his daughter. “But her growth is normal. She’s just quiet and the only irregularities are her eyes and focus. So far anyway. But she’s completely healthy.”

Sirius finally tore his eyes away from the child’s gaze to look at his friend who gave him a reassuring smile.

He turned his attention back to the little girl in his arms. Now he knew what to expect he wasn’t waylaid by her eyes and gaze on him. Instead he took in the rest of her appearance.

His gaze was arrested when he noticed the dark curly hair on the top of her head. It wasn’t wispy like her brothers. It was like a full head of hair. Dark curls covered her small head and Sirius felt his mind fill with previously unimagined thoughts. He took in the flushed shade of pink that came with new-born babies’ skin, the shape of her nose and her head.

Her features wouldn’t have been too extraordinary if they weren’t features he recognised so well. It he didn’t feel so oddly holding her.

Because neither James nor Lily had black curly hair or that face shape. Normally it wouldn’t matter, kids, and particularly magical kids didn’t always take on their parents exact features, and sometimes old, dormant genes would make a show.

James’s grandmother was a Black. That would make sense. But for them to show now…

“James, Lily. When did you decide which one of us was going to be godfather to which child?” He kept his voice quiet, soothing as the child in his arms eyes had started dropping. He could hardly see the green anymore.

Lily looked confused at the odd question, but comprehension dawned over James face as if he’d just figured it what Sirius was suggesting.

“You think so Sirius? But that hasn’t happened in, what, a hundred years? More?”

“If you did it would make sense. It feels like there’s something there. But… that is only if you did. Did you?” Sirius was staring at James intently as his eyes blew wide. He could also hear a small noise of comprehension as it dawned on Remus.

“Yes.” It came out like a whisper. James cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes we did. We thought since boys tend to be more raucous that Remus would be a calming influence. We also thought you be great with a goddaughter. I can’t say why exactly, because I’m not sure exactly why myself. It just seemed to make sense.”

James and Sirius were still staring at each other as a massive smile grew over Sirius’s face. He looked back down at the baby in his arms. If they were right about this…

“Why don’t I get a midwife or someone and we can see whilst you explain to Lily.”

James smiled back at him before leaning towards Lily.

Sirius turned to leave, making sure he was carrying his goddaughter correctly, adjusting her slightly which made her shuffle and make some noises, but she settled down as Sirius started walking steadily, letting out a small yawn, making her mouth form a little ‘O’ before her eyes fluttered shut again. He smiled and carried on down the hall to the reception, eyes only leaving her long enough to make sure his path was clear.

“Hello, I need to talk to a senior member of staff, is there one here?”

The witch at the desk looked up at him and at the child in his arms.

“There is. I can go and get her now. Is there an issue?” The nurse paused to hear his response but he shook his head with a smile.

“Just a few tests we want to enquire about.” The nurse nodded and went off to find the senior mediwitch.

The nurse came back with an elderly woman, and Sirius guided them down to the room everyone was in.

Entering the room again Sirius helped James explain what they wanted.

The mediwitch looked surprised and slightly dubious, but then considering as she walked closer to Sirius and looked at the child in his arms.

“We do have the spell in the archives, but I will have to find it, which might take a while, if you are all alright with waiting?”

They all nodded and settled down to wait. Still holding his goddaughter in his arms, a name popped into Sirius’s head. He banished it. One, this baby was Lily and James child to name. Two, that was a traditional Black name and he had willingly left that family behind. He was just feeling emotional because he was a godfather now and quite possibly a… well family sat close on his chest. It was irrational, and he focused instead on conversing with the rest of the room’s occupants. Half of him wondering whether he should offer to hand her back to Lily and James, but the other half not wanting to in case they said yes.

Still, he was going to make himself mad with all this thinking, so decided he may as well ask the new parents if they’d thought of a name yet.

“Not yet. We just can’t seem to find one that fits. We thought of a middle name. Fleamont for my father’s sake. He carried that name around his whole life to keep it alive for his grandmother’s sake. I thought I might as well carry on the tradition.” James smiled. It was his middle name too.

Sirius chewed his lip.

“Why don’t you suggest one?” James offered.

Sirius couldn’t even try and pretend he hadn’t been completely transparent with that one.

“What about Aurora?”

“… I like it actually. It’s really pretty.” Lily beamed at him.

James grinned at Lily’s ascent and nodded.

“Well that was easier than we thought it was going to be. You only needed one try Sirius. We were thinking up names for months and none of them fit.”

Sirius wasn’t sure how to take how easily they’d taken his suggestion on board, but they were right. The name did fit her.

“I’m just great like that.”

Remus snorted.

They waited another two hours before the mediwitch returned.

“Sorry it took so long. I had to find it and make sure it was safe and correct before we could use it.”

The spell didn’t take long to do, and required blood from Lily, James, Sirius, and Aurora (which Sirius was glad the mediwitch was trained to do because the thought of taking any blood from her himself made him feel nauseous, but Aurora didn’t even stir).

The result was positive.

“Well I never,” the witch looked stunned. “that’s something I never thought I’d see in all my time.” She presented the results to them and with Aurora’s name, recorded it on her birth certificate. “Blood of the godfather.”

Only he wasn’t just her godfather. He was her father as much as James was.

“James, Lily, I swear I’ll be the best damn godfather in the world.” Sirius had never said anything with as much conviction as he did then.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m still competing here.” Remus grinned at him.

It made laughter bubble up and break the atmosphere that had descended over the room.

It woke Harry and Aurora up, and Sirius finally had to hand her back over to Lily, but she let him hold her again once she was sleeping, and he couldn’t get the smile off his face until it was time for them all to go home and Sirius swore he would be over the next day.

He was, and only Auror business could pull him away.


	3. Chapter 2

_October 31 st, 1981_

Lily and James had keyed him into the wards when they were establishing them so Sirius could come and go as he pleased and they didn’t have to be alert to him wanting to come in past the wards.

As such, he felt when they broke, but when he had attempted to apparate there, he had been repelled, luckily, he had reacted quickly and rerouted to his flat so he hadn’t gotten splinched. He wasted no time in grabbing his bike and taking off into the air. Muggles be damned.

When he arrived, it was to a collapsing house, the acrid smell of burning accompanied the contained destruction on the building that was particular to magical fires, but a very much alive Lily and James. He could see them from Lily’s red hair that reflected the flames and the silhouette of James’ messy Potter hair.

Sirius felt grateful relief run through him at the sight of the seemingly composed couple, but it was twisted with unresolved tension and anxiety as there were two members of the family he couldn’t see. But they must be okay because Lily and James didn’t appear mad with grief.

Still, the feeling in his chest didn’t release. It wouldn’t without the security of knowing.

“James!” Sirius called as he jogged to where they were conversing with Dumbledore. The figure of the man unmistakable.

James turned around at the sound of his voice. Mustering a strained, tired smile to greet his friend of ten years.

“Sirius.” James sounded as Sirius had expected him to, but with an undercurrent of anxiety laced through his voice. It immediately set Sirius on edge.

“What happened James? Where are the twins?”

“Peter betrayed us. We left him with the twins for the night.”

Sirius’s mind was suddenly split. Two things hounding at him. One that he’d completely side-lined the fact that Peter the secret keeper in his rush to get here. That Sirius had been the one to _suggest_ Peter as their secret keeper. Horror and unrelenting guilt caused a sick feeling to wash over him. He felt like gagging, but the other thought on his mind was that Peter had been left in charge of the twins. Sirius had known that too.  Lily and James had left Peter in charge because Sirius had been on an Auror mission until that evening, and Remus had been sent to try and dissuade the remaining werewolves from siding with Voldemort. Sirius knew because James had kept him updated with their two-way mirrors.

The twins had been left with Peter. The traitor.

He felt James hand on his shoulder to bring him back out of his own mind and elevate his panic. Lily had stepped forward and had her hand hovering near him too.

“Sirius, they’re alive. They’re getting checked over by the medics right now. We’re over here because they need to make a clear evaluation and they couldn’t do that with us there. That’s why the twins aren’t here. But they’re alive. We all are, and the Aurors have already been dispatched to go after Peter.”

Sirius digested that. The boiling anger in his gut raged that he follow after Pettigrew and make sure he got the justice he deserved. But James hand on his shoulder, the strain of concern on Lily’s face and the knowledge that the twins were alright and he would see them soon kept him grounded.

“Okay.” Was all he could muster as an answer.

James pulled him to stand beside him shoulder to shoulder as Sirius stared at the frost edging at the opposite neighbours window, greatly contrasted by the heat reminding him of the destruction at the edge of his vision.

Sirius wanted to crane his neck to see where the twins were, but his motion seemed to be arrested, all he could do was clench his fingers tightly in his jacket as silence descended around them, murmurs and the crackling of fire in the background both distant hums and grating invaders.

He should have been secret keeper. The twins were being checked over by medics because he’d told James to take Peter as secret keeper and he had. And Peter had betrayed them. To think, they hadn’t dared to tell Remus about the secret keeper switch because though none of them truly thought him capable of joining the Death Eaters, the risk – that he might accidentally leak the information, that his loyalties could have loosened enough for them to have to keep it from him in the time he’d spent away from them – had been too perilous.

Shame crawled over him like the rancid breath of the Bloody Baron in every first years’ nightmares.

They hadn’t trusted Remus. He hadn’t trusted Remus. But he’d told Lily and James to take Peter as their secret keeper.

Sirius was so stuck in his mind – guilt and worry and shame and distress each competing for top place behind his burning eyes – that he barely managed to detect the rising tension in the silence of his companions, or the uneasy glances they shared.

Until he caught a faint tremor in Lily’s frame in the reflection of the window he was staring into.

It could have just been from the cold. The night was particularly biting and the fire pressed heat against them, but didn’t stop the cold that wrapped around their bones.

Sirius turned to her.

“The twins will be fine.” He fleetingly pressed his hand to the worry lines that had made themselves far too prominent in her young face. His voice was teetering on hollow, the only thing stopping it from falling was the desperation that begged everything would be fine, a poor imitation of hope.

Lily closed her eyes and hunched into herself slightly, ducking her head and nodding.

It was utterly unlike her, and Sirius might have been able to forgive her. But this was Lily. She didn’t give up. Never hunched over until it was all over and there was nothing left for her to stand against. But the twins were still being checked over and she should have been standing straight. Like a militant until they heard the verdict. Something was wrong.

“What is it? What aren’t you telling me? James.” He turned to demand the answer from his friend. His voice straining with a harsh rasp as he saw James panicked deer look. The resemblance wasn’t funny anymore.

“It’s not that Sirius.”

“What is it then?” His fingers were cold and starting to go numb. His throat was hurting. His lips were dry. He felt like things were about to take an unpleasant turn.

He was right.

“We have to send one of them away.” James pushed out.

“Why? Do they need to go to St Mungo’s intensive ward?” Sirius’s anxiety picked up. “You said they were fine.”

“They are!” James was always an awful liar and Sirius could always tell when he was lying. But Sirius couldn’t tell what was happening right now.

No-one said anything. No-one stepped up to explain.

Then it clicked.

Why James was panicking, and Lily was hunching.

They were guilty. And that’s why James was staring at him like he was afraid, and Lily was staring at the floor and neither of them were saying anything.

Guilty of what? Afraid of what?

Dumbledore finally stepped forward. Sirius hadn’t much bothered to notice when he’d stepped away. But now he stepped forward again and Sirius was thankful. Dumbledore always had the answers.

“You won’t like this Sirius.” He was grave. One of the few times Sirius had seen him so grave.

Sirius brushed off the warning. When did he ever like what someone had to tell him? They had been at war since Sirius had graduated from Hogwarts. His brother was dead. His cousins were all either on the opposing sides of this war or had managed to drop off the face of the Earth.

“I don’t care. Just tell me what’s happening.”

“From what we know, the twins have both survived their conflict with Voldemort, but as a result and the reason we are all over her rather than there,” Dumbledore motioned over to the area Sirius hadn’t yet managed to look over at for fear of… of what? Sirius’s head jerked that way. His eyes dragging through the figures all stood there. Many with their wands out. Huddled together. But Sirius’s sharp eyes could made out the two small figures sat on what seemed to be a conjured table. Aurora and Harry. “is because the twins were both saturated in Dark Magic, the catalyst, I believe, of why the house behind us is burning down, mixed with the ruined wards. They are currently being stabilised and their wounds healed as the medics remove the clinging magic.”

“Wounds?” Sirius glanced at Lily and James but looked again to Dumbledore. Knowing he was who would answer his question. The old wizard nodded.

“Yes. Both of them have received wounds. Though if the medics have done their jobs well, which I am sure they have, they will be scars soon enough.”

Scars. But magical healing didn’t leave scars. They could completely regrow skin like it had never been removed. Unless they were cursed scars.

“You mean to say they will have cursed scars?”

“That is exactly what I mean to say. And, my boy, you are aware of the prophecy.”

The prophecy. The whole reason Lily and James had gone into hiding. The same reason Frank and Alice had also gone into hiding. Sirius hadn’t heard the thing, but Lily and James had told him what it was about. A child born in late July to a couple that had defeated Voldemort three times, marked by Voldemort would be the defeater of Voldemort, and a lost child would have something to do with it. He wasn’t completely sure. Prophecies were never explicitly clear, and Sirius was sure there were other aspects to it he didn’t get the novelty of working out for himself. But it had been enough that Voldemort had put a target on the child of anyone who had defeated him thrice, and that was enough to send Lily and James into hiding.

“Well enough.” Sirius assented. He could figure out well enough how that was relevant. If they both had cursed scars they were both marked. “What does James mean one of them has to be sent away?”

 _Lost child_ kept ringing in his ears.

“Currently with the prophecy so vague, the uncertainty is too much of a risk for us to let it take its course on its own, if we can gently guide it we can insure the safety of both the children and…”

Dumbledore kept talking and Sirius was listening, but the words didn’t mean much. They went in one ear and out the other after a second of comprehension. Dumbledore had confirmed what he’d started to suspect. With both of the twins being marked, they both fit the criteria for the prophecy, but that left the criteria to open, whether it would be Harry or Aurora, and whoever the lost child would be. So, they were planning to manipulate it in order to have more control over it.

Sirius understood that. It made sense.

Sirius hated it.

Because he knew what they were thinking. He could predict it. He was clever. Always had been. Once upon a time his mother had had much hope for him becoming a great Slytherin. Of course, he’d crushed those dreams, but his sharp mind had never left him.

It had crossed all their minds. That _lost child_ could mean a child lost to the opposing side. It was an even starker reality to Sirius who knew just how easy it was for families to be split apart by ideals and opposing ethical and political views. Knew that just because you grew up with a particular upbringing didn’t mean it would be the one you followed. In a time of war, it was a possibility many parents didn’t want to think of.

And Sirius’s mind had already caught up with what Lily, James and Dumbledore must have been discussing. To send one of the twins away to be ‘lost’ to a muggle upbringing – because where else would they be sent to? – meant there was a lesser chance of them being _lost_ to Voldemort’s side. Not only because if they were lost that way, it meant they were less likely they would be lost the other way, but also because growing up amongst muggles, they would be ignorant of the magical world, magical politics and knowledge, therefore easier to manipulate upon their return to the magical community (because they would still be magical and therefore still receive their invitation to Hogwarts) to ensure they wouldn’t turn to the ‘Dark side’.

Would it be Harry sent to the muggles and deprived of his right to grow up alongside his magical heritage and loving family? Deprived of learning his gift and being blessed with the things that only came with growing up inside the magical community.

No. It wouldn’t. It would be Aurora. The child that was as much Sirius’s daughter as she was Lily and James. But Sirius had stepped back. Had acknowledged that right and revelled in it but not claimed it. Had let Lily and James raise the twins between them equally, not stepping in too far, because as great as it was that Aurora had Sirius there if ever she needed him, and though James had been overjoyed Sirius had as close a connection to his daughter as he did, no-one had wanted to acknowledge that there was always a reason that the blood of the godfather had manifested. That it was never truly a coincidence, but a necessity, though that was never mentioned, but in every tale passed down through generations it was clear for anyone that cared to see it, implied in every tale. No-one had wanted to consider why that would be, and when it didn’t manifest with Harry everyone had pushed it aside and been happy to accept it as a coincidence because surely it Lily and James were to die, it would have manifested in Harry too so that he would have someone by magical right to take care of him.

Because Aurora wasn’t just the child of Lily and James – they who had defeated Voldemort thrice – she was the child of Sirius too, and that’s what set her apart. That’s why it would be her sent away to live in ignorance and not Harry. Because she wasn’t just a Potter.

She was a Black too.

And that was a greater part of it. If it fell between a Potter and a Black being ‘lost to the Dark side’, there was no question which it would be. Aurora was the greater risk. Aurora was the one with the blood of a family who had the infamous threat of the cursed ‘Black insanity’ shadowing them throughout every move and interaction. Who shared blood with the likes of Walburga Black and Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, to whom the term insanity was more than just a _term_.

Dumbledore had stopped talking and hadn’t vocalised even half of the things Sirius’s mind had gathered. Of course he hadn’t. Sirius was surprised they’d even told him this.

Because he didn’t care about the damned prophecy. He was never one to play by others rules. Even if those rules were set by fate.

“Where are you sending him then?” He saw Lily flinch like he’d struck her. Saw Dumbledore’s face almost fall. He saw James clenching his jaw because James knew him. Knew how sharp he was where others didn’t. Knew exactly what Sirius was doing and knew why he was doing it too.

Because Sirius could be cruel when the situation called for it. Was debilitatingly good at acting without caring for the consequences. Even if it hurt the people he loved. A by-product of his upbringing. He was supposed to have learned better. Learned to think before he spoke. Before he acted.

He had.

He saw James eyes alight with pain because Sirius was doing this to punish them and he knew it. He knew the result of his words. Had learned it in fifth year, after he’d nearly ruined every chance of Remus ever trusting him again.

“Sirius please.” James was pleading with him. It churned his stomach.

“Please what? Please let you take my daughter away for the next ten years of her life because you’re scared of some prophecy? Make her suffer for something that you don’t even know is going to come to turn?”

It was the first time he’d said it.

The first time he’d vocally claimed himself as her father.

And it was to tear her away from her other one.

“She won’t be suffering Sirius.” Dumbledore tried to intervene to placate him.

“Right. Because being denied her heritage, family and all knowledge of the world she belongs to and the gift she possesses won’t affect her at all. What were you even planning to do?”

‘Were planning’ because Sirius certainly wasn’t about to let it happen.

“She won’t be without family.”

Sirius’s mind almost went white as he heard those words. Won’t be without family. Right. But neither James nor Sirius had any muggle family. The only one that did was Lily, and Sirius could still remember one of the first times he’d had a conversation with Lily that didn’t include him antagonising her, or her getting angry at him for being an idiot. It had been once she’d started warming up to James although James hadn’t been there for the conversation.

It had been just before the Christmas holidays when everybody had been gearing up to go home in their sixth year. It was always easy to tell who was staying because those were the kids that never looked excited for the holidays and didn’t participate in the conversations of their fellow students.

Sirius had been staying with the Potters by then and they had made it more than obvious he was not only welcome but expected there for Christmas. So for the first time he had been excited for it.

He’d noticed the contrast in Lily. Normally she was one of the many students that went home for the holidays. But that year she hadn’t joined in with their fellow year mates talking about their Christmas plans, hadn’t acted like she was going anywhere, and Sirius had recognised the look she sometimes got when people brought up family or she was left to her thoughts too long.

So he’d dropped an offhand comment to her whilst they were both sat in the common room one evening. James and Peter had gone to the infirmary to check up Remus after the full moon, Sirius had stayed behind because Madame Pomfrey had put a ban on them all being there at the same time unless it was a flying visit (Sirius hadn’t minded, because they could all go under the invisibility cloak later that evening).

She’d been tense at first. But she must have known a little about Sirius’s own family life because she didn’t make him go away or rebuke him. She’d hesitated and been quiet for a long time, but eventually she’d opened up.

Her parents sounded alright, though there was a distance when she spoke about them that showed a lack of something, but it had been her description of her sister that had been what made Sirius connect to her. It sounded like emotional abuse the way Sirius heard it. And he knew enough about that from his own family. They flung around curses of the metaphorical kind as well as they did their spells, and his parents had never cared to hold their tongues against their disgrace of a son.

As far as Sirius was considered Lily’s ‘family’ were better off far, far away from Sirius’s own. He had been glad when Petunia had refused to come to the wedding, though had been tactful enough not to mention it, and had empathised with Lily’s sadness at it. It was hard to stop loving your family no matter who they were. Even if sometimes you loved what they could have been in another life time rather than what they actually were.

“Won’t she? Because the only family I know of that Aurora could possibly be sent away to is Lily’s sister. In case you haven’t noticed, all our other relatives are insane or dead! And sending her to Petunia would be as good as cursing her to a life as an Obscurial!”

James flinched at his last remark. Dumbledore didn’t visibly react much, but Sirius detected something in his manner shifting. Lily looked distraught, but she didn’t know what an Obscurial was. It wasn’t something they taught in the curriculum. Not with Binns as the History of Magic Professor anyway.

“Obscurials only manifest under very severe circumstances Sirius. You’re allowing your mind to run away with you.”

Sirius wanted to curse them all.

Instead he turned away and started walking towards where the medi-witches and wizards were.

“Excuse me.” He called the attention of one of the witches. “How injured are they?”

“They are all healed now and mostly stable, we are just working to make sure there is no corrosive magic clinging to them. It can damage a child’s development if they are exposed to malevolent magic at a great degree at such a young age.”

Sirius was aware of that. Extreme cases could destabilise the child’s magic from their outside influences and that could result in harder to control magic.

It was easier if their ancestors had grown up in similar circumstances, he didn’t know how, but children with parents each from differing sides of the spectrum didn’t react as badly to being placed in their contrasting environment.

His uncle had been interested in it and had told Sirius about it when he was younger. The man always had been interested in obscure or topically undiscussed topics. Like how magic affected genetics. (Contrary to what most wizards thought, genes weren’t a muggle area just because they were an aspect of science. Science often being proved null through magic, so wizards often thought it all false).

As it was, Sirius had grown up in a house where dark wards and cursed objects were the norm. And that could work in his favour now.

“Surely it would be better for them to remove them from this site then. The area is tainted with dark magic.” Sirius stepped toward where the twins were laying. He made sure not just his steps, but all his mannerisms were decisive.

He had learned that if you pretended you had the right to be doing what you were doing, people hesitated in stopping you from doing so.

He didn’t ask, and he didn’t hesitate as he picked Aurora up.

The three he had left behind were circling the group, watching up until that point.

“Sirius, what are you doing?”

Aurora was cradled close to his chest, shifting slightly at the movement. He cradled her close. She was a good temperature which meant at least that the medics had been confident enough about her state they had cast a temperature spell on her.

“Taking her somewhere less saturated with dark magic.”

“Sirius, this is dangerous. Please, let us talk this out more. We don’t want this.”

Sirius didn’t stop but he did turn. There was something he had to make clear.

“It doesn’t matter what you want James. It matters what you do.” Sirius cradled Aurora closer to him. Thankful she was asleep right now, her little fists clutching his Auror robe that he hadn’t had the time to change out of. “And I don’t believe if I let you take Aurora, that you won’t do something that will tear her away from all of us. I won’t let you do that.”

“It isn’t permanent Sirius. But the Prophecy isn’t complete and that is dangerous. We can make sure we get the best possible outcome out of this, for everyone.”

“I don’t care about everyone.” Sirius’s eyes had blurred. He felt foolish for letting the tears come to his eyes.

“You don’t care about anyone!” Lily had been quiet so far and honestly Sirius wasn’t much surprised with her outburst. She wasn’t the quiet type. Multiple angry rebuttals rose in his mind, but he bit his tongue as Lily hadn’t finished. “You think we want this? She is our daughter. But we are trying to find the best way to make sure something like this never happens again and you are only thinking about yourself! You accuse us of tearing her away from all of us, but that’s exactly what you’re intending to do.”

Sirius wanted to snarl at her. His canine side rising inside him. Everything felt too intense. He wanted it to be over with now.

“I’m not tearing her away from all of us; I’m tearing her away from you. And I’m not just thinking of myself, I’m thinking of her. Screw your greater good.”

Thankfully, just at that moment as he was finishing talking another wave of Aurors arrived. Distracting everyone with the multiple cracks and giving Sirius the split second he needed to disapparate.


	4. Chapter 3 - Andromeda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort is dead but unfortunately that is not all that occurred that night. The front page of the Daily Prophet may be singing their victory against the Dark Lord, but the second page reflects the consequences of the war.  
> Andromeda and Ted's relationship strains as the shadow of her family refuses to stay hidden.

_November 1 st, 1981_

Andromeda was more than used to living with discomfort. And she didn’t mean the material kind. Though she could live with physical discomfort, having a good tolerance for pain, but she was even more used to living with emotional and internal discomfort.

Having been brought up in the family she was, her only comfort had been in her solitude, and at times in her sisters and the kinder of her cousins. Even then, it had never been complete. She had never had the peace of mind to leave her wand around the house or in her room. Even though most times it did her little good, she still had access to its familiar sense of loyalty that she felt so little of anywhere else.

Hogwarts had been different. Surrounded by many other students and sentient portraits, there was never really any place for true solitude, but despite its oftentimes unsafe environment (moving stairs and magical creatures in the forest and lake) it was more comfortable than her home, where her parents controlled their actions. There was a freedom she had been granted at Hogwarts that had previously been alien to her.

Then she had met Ted and it hadn’t been hard to fall in love – hard to let herself do so and hard to work out how to function in a relationship with another person (particularly when they had to keep it secret till their graduation) – but not hard to fall in love.

But she had found over the years, that love often wavered. Sometimes she would wonder whether it had really been love (it had been – she had determined that much was true), then she would wonder whether having a child had been the right thing at the time (though Nymphadora had been a surprise and a challenge she wouldn’t lie – though that would be true for many children – Andromeda felt a disturbing hole in her life when she imagined it without her exuberant daughter), then she would wonder if it hadn’t been having a child that had set her feelings out of place, but who she was raising her with (if she was being honest here, she thought a lot of the time she would do better on her own, it seemed Ted and her fought more over how the right way to do things was, than they spent actually doing anything).

That and a million other things. One being how his family didn’t much like her. They had thought Ted would settle down with a ‘nice girl’, which apparently she didn’t, nor had ever qualified as (that wasn’t as much an insult as it seemed to be). Too stern. Didn’t smile enough. Had little interest in muggle things (it wasn’t little interest, she had tried them, but found the spells she knew worked better, and not only were easier, but quicker too).

Not to say Andromeda didn’t have her issues with them as well. They adored Nymphadora, that much was obvious, but it rubbed her completely the wrong way how they treated her metamorphmagus abilities like party tricks. Nymphadora didn’t seem to mind too much at the moment. She loved her abilities, which Andromeda knew was a good thing, and she wasn’t about to stop her from using them, but she knew there would come a day Nymphadora might not be as confident in herself as she was now at the age of five. Andromeda still remembered every incident Narcissa had had over her appearance. She had always looked more like a Malfoy than a Black. Something that had always made people whisper. That had been part of the reason she had gotten attached to Lucius, who had made the point of saying that if they were related it was through very distant relatives and if anyone else commented on Narcissa’s light features, he would hex them because ‘by now it’s insulting, she does not have to verify her family tree for your sake, if you think it is any of your concern that’s purely wishful thinking on your end I assure you’. Andromeda had pointedly not raised how Lucius was very cutting about other people’s familial relations; it had made Narcissa happy, and no-one else had seemed inclined to point it out either, so she had let it lie. Narcissa’s abilities were not that of a metamorphmagus, there was no changing at will involved (Andromeda had often wondered at veela connections, the changing and the light hair, but had never mentioned it) but it was definitely something that ran in the family.

And then there was that. Her family was never a small matter. Never had been, never would be. So the way Ted dismissed the rift that existed between her and her family created a tension she wasn’t even sure he was aware of.

Yes, her parents were cruel, manipulative, abusive, and obsessively controlling. Though thankfully they had relocated to France and whilst there contracted a magical ailment to which they had lost their lives to. She didn’t miss them.

But her sisters had once both just been children like her and she had grown up alongside them. Her youngest cousin was dead. Perhaps he had died fighting on the wrong side, but that didn’t stop the ache that came with knowing his future no longer existed and that she would never get see his face animated again. They hadn’t even found Regulus’s body. He had faded from black to silver on the family tree. She had found out in the newspaper.

Narcissa was married (they used to plan each other’s weddings as children, and when the time came, Andromeda hadn’t even been welcome to write her sister a letter to say congratulations) with a son (they had thought out names together too. Ones derived from both constellations and myths, a Black traditional name they could pass down to their children, though they would take the father’s family name). Andromeda had found that all out in the Daily Prophet too. Which she knew all too well printed lies and embellished truths more than they did fact. That was what she relied on to learn anything about her younger sister. Whenever she mentioned it, all she got was a comment to forget about her family anyway. They had disowned her.

Now she was staring down at her older sister’s face snarling up at her from the second page of the Daily Prophet (unfortunately, she had the sick sinking feeling the words her eyes had found weren’t lies this time) placed in front of her by her husband.

Was it the circumstances that meant his presence went beyond even just mildly irritating to her, or had that been happening for a while now?

She was starting to wonder when she’d started living with how she felt in no longer being completely comfortable around him, and when it had been that she had started wanting to live without it.

Andromeda refused to break the silence first. Her eyes had caught the message on the top of the page the moment she had seen it, and she hadn’t been able to stop the horror from mounting inside her, but she wasn’t going to fall apart.

“That is your sister Andromeda.” Ted put it out there like they had already had a conversation prior to that statement.

When had she started thinking of their daily arguments as ‘conversations’ rather than the disputes they were?

“Really? I couldn’t tell.” That came out sounding more like Bellatrix than she had intended it to. Thankfully Ted had never spent enough time around her older sister to realise that.

That was probably why he was still talking to her instead of backing away. Over the past few years she had been in only two situations where she had interacted with the magical community enough for anyone to mistake her for Bellatrix or identify that she was related to her. Each time Andromeda had done the first thing she could think of and told them harshly to back off before apparating away. Not the kindest thing she had ever done and certainly not good for her reputation, but she had figured using Bellatrix’s sadistic reputation to get her out of a fix had been better than waiting around for someone to alert either the Aurors or for Bellatrix herself to find out she was there.

Her elder sister had made it quite clear the last time she had seen Andromeda exactly what she would do if they ever met again.

It had been the first time Andromeda had truly feared for her life. Of course, over the years, she had always been fearful of her parents and then the impending war, but she had always managed to position herself well enough to stay out of the way. Being the centre of Bella’s fury had been terrifying because for the first time she was the sole focus of her sister’s psychotic side, and that had not been a nice experience.

Suffice to say, the more she resembled Bellatrix, the wiser it was to leave her alone to calm herself.

For a Ravenclaw, Ted wasn’t so wise.

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” He slapped the broadsheet down on the table.

She’d been drinking tea. In a perfectly reasonable mood, soaking in the last moments of solitude before Ted and Nymphadora returned from visiting Ted’s family.

Now, she could answer this question one of two ways. She could say ‘No’, or:

“I was of the impression you thought anything to do with my family was irrelevant seeing as I was disowned?”

Ted stared at her mutely, the understanding that she was dancing around with her words set him seething silently.

“What do you want me to say?” Which was of course, an invitation to not share anything he had wanted her to say because she did not care to cater to what he wanted from her in this context, or in fact, any other context.

The churning in her stomach didn’t distract her or make her anxious about the argument. This sick feeling wasn’t for Ted. It was for Bella. Some small part of her that had hoped for some form of reconciliation shrivelled up inside of her and dropped to lie in the pit of her stomach, dead. You couldn’t reconcile with someone that no longer existed.

And that was what this showed her. The sister she had once loved, perhaps not in the most straightforward way, but loved nonetheless, was gone. Andromeda couldn’t love who Bellatrix Lestrange was. She could only mourn for the girl her sister had once been. When she had still held the chance of becoming something more than what now was.

“I guess I just expected you to have more of a reaction.”

“Why is that?”

Ted started turning on his heel before turning back to her, arms crossed tightly, shoulders bunched together and jaw tight.

“I don’t want to play this game Andromeda! Why do we always have to do this?”

“I am not playing a game.” She uttered the words sharply but didn’t spit them. This would not become a screaming match. “I asked you a question. But if that one wasn’t good enough for you, I will give you another one: What reaction did you expect me to have?”

He fumbled for a moment.

“…I _thought_ you _cared_ about your family.”

“Family isn’t so simple, but I suppose if you want to put it that way, I care to know what happens to them. As everyone does with their family.” Not necessarily true but generally considered so.

“Most people don’t have psychopaths for family members.”

Andromeda turned her face to him, glaring from where she was sat.

“Every family is different.”

“Not sadist, torturing, lunatic, getting-locked-up-in-Azkaban different Andromeda.” What an illuminating insight he had provided her. Andromeda stared back out the window, wishing she was alone again.

“You seem to be basing my whole family off of one individual.” She ran her thumb up and down the body of her teacup, it was getting lukewarm now. She lifted it to take a drink.

“Oh, I’m sorry, should we discuss it over _tea_?” Ted put the most patronisingly ridiculous voice on ‘tea’ that she was tempted to lose all self-restraint and throw hers in his face.

Instead she took a sip. Reminding herself Nymphadora was upstairs.

“I don’t much care to, no.” She uncrossed her legs, standing up from the kitchen table. “You started this conversation, if you’re done now I’m going to finish it.”

She didn’t bother with casting a warming spell on the rest of her tea, pouring it down the sink.

Ted was silent as she did so and crossed back over the room to leave, but she knew he was waiting to have the last word as always.

“I don’t know why I expected any different from you.” There. His voice pitched like what he had said was humorous.

“That’s impressive seeing as from what I could gather you didn’t seem to have anything to expect at all.”

Andromeda moved up the stairs swiftly, the image of Bellatrix and her demented manner from the black and white photograph printed on the paper downstairs trying to take precedence in her mind. But Andromeda knew she wouldn’t be able to think about this until she had a moment to herself for it to all hit her.

“Mummyyyy!” Nymphadora sat up off her bed where she had been playing with her toys to run and greet her mother. It had occurred to Andromeda that Ted must have told Nymphadora he had wanted a talk with her first for Nymphadora not to already have run and greeted her.

Luckily, she seemed blissfully unaware of what had just gone on downstairs, grinning ecstatically at her mother with her favourite bright pink hair.

“Hello Nymphadora.” She returned the enthusiastic hug. Dropping a kiss on her daughter’s head as she did so. She seemed to have gotten taller since the last time Andromeda had done so.

Which had been last week.

“Darling, you know I told you it’s bad for your growth to stretch your body so much when you’re still a child. You might hurt yourself.” She looked sternly at her daughter, who drooped disappointed, but screwed up her face and fists as her height reverted to what it usually was. “You know I only do it because you might get hurt. Don’t pout. Once you are older and have finished growing, you can change whatever you like. But for now, remember why I want you to limit it. Hair is okay. Eyes are fragile. Body is…”

“Still growing.” Her daughter finished dutifully. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say sorry Nymphadora, just take care of yourself.” She smiled at her.

Her daughter perked up immediately. Never one to linger on a moment that could be spent doing something else.

“Mama, you’ll never guess what I got from granny!”

 Her daughter clambered up on her bed and immediately grabbed her pillow to place over the new muggle toy Andromeda had noticed she’d been playing with when she had first walked in. Andromeda hadn’t looked too closely at it.

“Oh, is it a…” Andromeda placed her hand on her chin and hummed. Her daughter giggled and Andromeda didn’t bother hiding her smile at the sound. Which made Nymphadora giggle more. She kept humming until the brightly laughing child shook her head.

“No mama, you have to guess!”

“Alright, alright then… a hedgehog?” Her daughter almost shrieked with laughter. Andromeda was continuously struck with how easily laughter came to her daughter. It was a trait she was very fond of.

“Noooooo, mummy be serious.” The sudden urge to crack one of the puns her cousin so loved was just on the tip of her tongue ‘I’m not Sirius, I’m Andromeda’ but she swallowed it down. Nymphadora wouldn’t have the faintest clue what she meant.

“I was being serious. Deadly serious.” She wiggled her fingers for emphasis.

Pink hair shook as her daughter showed her how true she thought that was. Large grin still present.

“Oh, well if you’re going to make me guess then why don’t you give me a clue?” Andromeda sat down on her daughter’s bed as she amused her by trying to guess what her new toy was.

She spent about an hour with Nymphadora before her father’s voice called her down for tea. She must have been hungry after the trip, Andromeda supposed.

“Are you coming mummy?” Her daughter looked up at her, fingers wrapping around as much of her hand as she could reach.

Andromeda hadn’t realised until that moment after catching her daughter’s face how much she must have caught between her parents. She looked almost nervous. Whether that was because she wanted her mother to come downstairs or not to, Andromeda couldn’t tell.

“In a few moments my darling.” She ruffled her daughter’s hair, before letting her go down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Okay.” Nymphadora made her way down the stairs quickly. Which always made Andromeda pause and wait to make sure she got down safely.

Andromeda felt twice as heavy with Nymphadora downstairs. She didn’t have her to distract her from her thoughts.

There wasn’t much to do really, only learn to accept the facts.

Andromeda hated it. Just as she always had. The knowledge that she could only stand by and watch the proceedings and deal with how they impacted her life without being able to have any say in it.

She was stuck here, in this house with a husband she no longer loved, and whom she was only staying with for the sake of her daughter, whilst the outside world was falling to pieces and she was impacted by the actions of her family who she no longer had any contact with.

She almost started crying, blinking to hold back the tears as she reiterated the thought internally. That was it wasn’t it? The only reason she was still here was for Nymphadora’s sake. She didn’t want to be here. Couldn’t remember the last time she had. Not since Nymphadora was four years old she reckoned. Over a year ago.

After a moment she dried her eyes for the tears that hadn’t fallen and straightened her daughter’s bed sheets out before turning and heading back downstairs.

She could work this out. Now the war was over things would blow over and her and Ted would get better without the stress of the war and all the issues with blood supremacy being so prominent in all of their minds. They would have too. For Nymphadora’s sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone who has read the original work will know this is leading up to Andromeda leaving Ted but I thought I would give it a bit more build up this time, as it was quite sudden beforehand.


End file.
